He Who Sows the Wind
by Beauseant
Summary: This is a story about the power of ideas and the people who mold us.
1. Chapter 1

"I'm not suggesting, I'm telling you, the Brotherhood cannot survive with its current protocols. Either we delve into agricultural sciences and the recruitment of outsiders, or we risk the collapse of the Brotherhood of Steel."

"So we're to just go around finding information on pre-war farming equipment, while countless weapons technologies litter the wastes, ready to fall into any waster's dirt painted hands? This is asinine, Elijah! It's against the very way of the Brotherhood!"

"You think like them, Veronica! Open your mind! Look at this place! We send patrols out to gather food, supplies, what have you. We make none ourselves! It's a short-term strategy employed by those who have no knowledge of how to make a living themselves! Do you think there's a factory somewhere that's still mass producing Pork N' Beans, and having someone sprinkle them about the wasteland? No! The NCR may not be the world's next great civilization, but they are at least sensible folk when it comes to agriculture and economy! The Legion may be marauders and murderers, but even Caesar knows that there is power in society! We are practically surrounded in untapped resources, and we're still going after the same garbage we have hunted since the beginning! Every day we lose a little ground in this place, this wasteland. Every day we lose a few good men. Well, we can't regain our footing without knowing how to grow some corn! For the better part of two centuries, this order has presumed its most valuable commodity to be its hordes of weapons, but the most valuable commodity isn't physical, it's mental! Knowledge is what will win this world! We cannot hope to survive without the means to do so!"

Veronica's gaze slowly shifted towards her feet. Elijah, unfortunately, was right. As the Elder of the Mojave chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel, he was also in charge. For months they had been conducting an exhausting search for books on old world agriculture, tediously examining broken equipment from before the war. Entire rooms were cleared solely for the purpose of raising a greenhouse in. She turned to leave. She hated admitting when she was wrong, especially to Elijah. She couldn't, in her adept memory, recall anyone who didn't hate admitting defeat to the man. He was always right. Always a step ahead of everyone. The man never beckoned after her. He was used to people turning and walking away. It was their own way of admitting defeat, and she knew Elijah was well versed in the language. She locked the heavy metal door guarding his room as she exited, letting out an aggravated breath as she did so. This was her way of admitting defeat. She knew it to be true; the Brotherhood could not rebuild, or even survive as they are, without some sort of self sustaining system. Unfortunately, the belief was not shared by his comrades and subordinates, thus the butting of heads was commonplace under Elijah's rule. Doubly unfortunate, Elijah was a father to her, and this made her one of so very few capable of understanding him. Veronica climbed into bed. She knew her spar with Elijah would have awoken a new vigor in him, and tomorrow the Brotherhood would likely brave another of Elijah's unorthodox endeavors. There was no stopping it, the only ally she had anymore, besides Elijah, was prayer.

Elijah stiffened in his chair. Another day, another game of tug-of-war with his constituents. He could handle the accusations his comrades levied at him. While confident, if not narrow-minded individuals, they could not challenge him the way Veronica could. He hated arguing with her. As firm as he felt with his beliefs, almost counter-intuitively, he did not want her to emulate his ways. Even if he believed himself right, it didn't make him any friends in this place. People fought his every move. Achieving the rank of Elder was painstaking and arduous, and heavily, if not entirely, owed to Elijah's own cunning, rather than his ideals. For every thesis, an antithesis formed in his path. His survival meant always being the smartest man in the room. Unfortunately, he knew himself to be a stubborn old man. Elijah poured over the map. He eyes fixated on the crudely drawn destination marking the base they would settle in a weeks time. It was a tall structure, surrounded with solar panels. It could nearly power the entire region. Elijah suspected, however, there would be more to this phallic monument than it advertised. Nothing in this world, Elijah theorized, was without malleability, "In every shield, a weapon", or, as Veronica translated, "In every fork, a foodapault". Given half a day's walk, they would likely no longer need a map. After excruciatingly examining volumes of books on the region, Elijah had happened upon a diamond in the rough. Such a cliche saying in the old world, yet its relevance bolstered exponentially in the wastes. The world was rough, and diamonds littered the place, though no one seemed to look for them anymore. Elijah, however, could not help himself from seeing them. Everybody else seemed to be so blind, as though they had outgrown their ability to see the potential in their every movement, in their every thought. Elijah shook his head gently in disappointment. Certainly to the disdain of his fellow members of the Brotherhood, Elijah would hasten their journey tomorrow morning. Excellence, after all, waited not for the lazy.

Elijah stood and turned left, facing the room that would be his for the night. As he did so, he noticed the return of a sharp pain in his lower back. He cursed at his age inwardly, and made for the door. Closing it behind him, he too, loosed a sigh of defeat. The only comfort left in his world besides Veronica, was anticipation. Elijah reveled in his anticipation. In closing his eyes, Elijah could open his mind to the many forces at work in this world. It reminded him of a very old game. It was better than music.

* * *

_So my second tale begins. The first few chapters are dry, so bear with me._


	2. Chapter 2

Veronica woke to the semi familiar sound of her comrades bustling about their morning. In this case, however, the time edged closer to the middle of the night, and the bustling more aggravated than was customary. This was not to say, however, that it was surprising. She nearly felt responsible. Her challenging of Elijah last night was probably what invigorated him into cracking the whip earlier today. The medley of items she referred to as her "possessions" were barely unpacked, thus she found herself prepared to mobilize sooner than most, regardless of her oversleeping. She exited into the hallway, half finished can of beans in hand. A couple of mouthfuls passed before she found everyone was fully clad in power armor. She started back for her room.

"So it's that kind of day," She murmured to herself. Rounding the doorway into her room, Veronica donned her power armor. Between Veronica's inexperience and her general role as the group gatherer, her power armor had seen few battles. She returned to the hallway fully armored, laser rifle hanging down her back, can of beans still in tow. She awkwardly worked the spoonful under her helmet and into her mouth. To her amazement, and hers alone, she did not even lose a bean. If Elijah was impressed, he certainly did not express it. He lifted the helmet and propped it up on her head, scowling slightly as he did so.

"Er, thanks," Veronica barely managed to get the words through her breakfast. She scooped up the last of the beans. Once she had finished the can, Elijah slapped the helmet back proper.

"We're headed straight for it today."

Veronica never hid her emotions with Elijah, there was no point, "All the way? They must be pretty pissed, hey?"

Elijah rolled his eyes discreetly at her wording, "They're displeased, but I'm sure they'll find the journey worth it. Regardless of whether they actually do, I'm sure I'll be pleased."

Veronica saw the opportunity to jeer at Elijah, "I'll believe that when I see it."

"Hmph," Elijah dismissed.

Elijah exited ahead of the rest of the group. It was his custom to lead the bunch, for two reasons. The more public one being he wished to represent the group as the leader he was. The less public one being he genuinely did not trust anyone else to know the way. The desert was hot, and Elijah did not have power armor to keep him cool. It mattered little to Elijah, as the anticipation blocked all other cares. Just a days walk to it, his crowning achievement.

It took, in Elijah's opinion, unnecessarily long to convince the Brotherhood to allow him to investigate this particular building. Although crass, Elijah had to unfurl his theories regarding the building in order to convince them of its worth. Even then, it was gamble, as the prospect of finding a weapon in the form of a building was the substance of old world stories. They would eventually indulge Elijah, and concede to him a brief endeavor to the place.

Elijah, in his recollection, had lost track of the time. They had clearly wandered into Hidden Valley, an underground bunker Elijah had already integrated into their plan as their contingency hideout. The sun had begun to touch with the other side of the earth, and no sooner did he wonder their proximity to their destination than did it bloom upon the horizon. At first, like a flagpole in the ground, slowly climbing in height, but their journey soon found them gazing upon a tower unlike any they had ever seen. If Elijah had seen a more glorious sight, he could not recall it. The building must have been as tall as the satellites perched atop the hills surrounding the area. Elijah, for the first time in a long while, let a smile overtake his face. He pointed down the hill, towards the entrance. His troops were tired, but their vigor renewed at the sight of the end of their journey. They trotted gleefully down the hill. Elijah examined the place. A part of him glad, but a part of him also disturbed. The place was looted. The power of the sun at their fingertips, and the people of the wastes looted it for sensor modules and wonderglue. He imagined the place was now hearing more noise than it had heard in many years, as the clanging of tens of power armor clad feet noisily announced their arrival. Rooms were hastily commandeered and split into sections, a men's corridor, and a women's. Elijah remarked at the efficiency with which his chapter erected a camp. Almost supernaturally, he turned to Veronica, who also remarked upon Elijah's momentary sixth sense.

"No sneaking up on you."

Elijah ignored the playful small talk, "They're better at setting up camp than they are at conducting battle."

"I would be too, if I had to walk a day's walk for my bed."

Elijah groaned, "Are there any inhabitants?"

"Apparently not, although McNamara figured the upper floors may yet be untouched, as there appears to be a series of mounted turrets up there. They aren't much, but it may have been enough to keep out a looter here and there."

Elijah was delighted. Good news was a luxury few enjoyed, and the moments they enjoyed it were few as well.

"Thank you Veronica, get a good sleep."

Elijah made his way to the makeshift men's quarters, where he came to the immediate and unfortunate conclusion he was to share a dorm with his comrades tonight. Were it not otherwise fortunate circumstances, Elijah would be outraged. He comforted himself with the notion that if he needed to sacrifice one good night's sleep in the name of the goal he had worked so hard and so long on, he felt prepared to make that sacrifice. The only discomforting notion, was the thought of how much more he and his subordinates may need to sacrifice. He thought perhaps he should speak to Veronica. He did not want her placed needlessly in harm's way, thus, it may be best to keep her at his side. She was a capable fighter, but this tower, Elijah feared, may wind up playing a dinner bell for an unsavory guest.


	3. Chapter 3

Over the course of the next week, Elijah and the chapter would pry at the systems in the facility, the old beast slowly waking from its age long slumber. It appeared every time they opened a door, another team would need to be sent in to handle another armed defense system. Elijah hacked computer after computer. He was tiring of doing so. He reminded himself that every door he opened was another hurdle jumped towards being at the helm of this ship.

"Elijah, the control room is in the section beyond this door, but we're picking up signals of robotic defenses on the other side."

Elijah adopted a stern look, "More turrets?"

"Er, no sir, mobiles. Looks like a couple sentry bots and a roof turret. Could get messy if we stick with the usual guns blazing."

Elijah turned around, "Get out of here, I need to think."

The room emptied. Elijah loved silence almost as much as he loved being right. His mind pounded through possibilities, strategies, intricacies of robots, searching meticulously through their weaknesses, as one would filter through a filing cabinet. He knew the combat inhibitors were the aces in this deck, but one does not simply wiggle their way behind a sentry bot. Elijah played in his mind every move, every gambit he could muster, and, like most obstacles in his path, this too, needed only time.

A pulse grenade could give them the moment they would need to have a sharpshooter put a laser blast in the lens of the ceiling turret. The frenzied turret would fire at the sentry bots, who would return the fire. Now with their backs turned, they could shoot out the inhibitors on the backs of each robot. They, too, would then frenzy, and all three would attack each other. A waiting game would follow briefly, then would the victor of the chaos be gunned down by a cadre of Brotherhood knights. Elijah snapped his fingers, as if inventing the sound of a great idea. He wouldn't really even need sharpshooters, to be honest. Three shots, none of them of incredible difficulty. He left the room in a hurried pace, directly towards the room where his soldiers stood like stalwart guardians, prepared for the door's opening. Elijah grabbed a gauss rifle propped up against the frame of the massive metal door. A soldier stepped towards him.

"Sir? There's a shitfuck waiting on the other side of that door."

Elijah ignored the soldier's diction, "Give me a pulse grenade."

If crudely spoken, the man was not insubordinate, and handed Elijah the grenade without question. Elijah smiled briefly at the notion of the soldier questioning his motives, but not his request for weaponry. This was not to say Elijah found it wrong to do so. Ideas, after all, are so much more powerful than weapons. Elijah pecked away at the terminal to the door until he found himself simply a keystroke away. He found, however, than he would require help, after all.

"Veronica."

His eyes rolled as he listened to Veronica rise semi violently, most likely from a nap, as she found the Brotherhood helmets to be excellent for sleeping incognito.

"What-er, yes sir?" Elijah's eye muscles were well conditioned to the movement Veronica's usual antics forced of them.

"Come press this key when I say." It wasn't a lot of help, but it was imperative.

Veronica lazily dragged herself over to the terminal. Elijah made sure to dramatize the movements of his carefully planned strategy. Elijah took a deep breath. He activated the pulse grenade, simultaneously giving Veronica the green light. The door unsheathed the madness within it. Elijah bowled the grenade in. He didn't even have time to catch a glimpse of the room. The two sentry bots attracted most of his eye, but he fought his instinct and focused on the turret. The three machines came to life. Their revival brought a life to the room for a moment before the grenade emptied the room of it. Elijah shouldered the rifle, reveling in the strength he borrowed from the adrenaline in his veins. The first shot blasted from the rifle. The lens was gone from view. A gauss rifle was indeed overkill for the scenario, but Elijah, like God, cared not for gambling. The machine looked as though it never sported a lens before, the heat from the rifle blast having welded the whole contraption shut as it removed a portion of it. The machine instantly recalibrated for the nearest threat, and perforated the back of the sentry bot to its left. Both sentry bots returned to life, although the sounds of their weapons arming were drowned out by the penetrating booming of gunfire. The bots turned to face their newfound ambusher. Elijah adjusted his aim. The combat inhibitor was a laughably large target. Elijah was quite nearly disappointed with their dreadfully crass design. Like little automated tanks, with ridiculous off-switches the size of backpacks dominating a large section of their rears. Elijah fired a second round into the back of the sentry bot on the turret's right. The inhibitor erupted in sparks. Elijah signalled Veronica to close the door, to which she quickly obliged. Elijah returned the rifle to its leaning stance by the door. He then waited. The roar of the gunfire softened behind the thick metal door as it hinged shut. Bullets slashed at it, small dents forming where the barrage was most intense. Elijah extended his hand for a replacement pulse grenade. Another soldier stepped in to fulfill his request. Elijah equipped the rifle again and nodded at Veronica. The woman leaned leisurely on the panel, one hand fully extended to support her leaning body, whilst her other hand prepared to open the door. In light of the circumstances, Elijah semi wished for a more alert presence in Veronica, but such was her way. The door wrenched open a second time. Elijah did not waste time, bowling the grenade under the door before it was open a foot. Returning to his cover behind the door frame, Elijah waited for the unique burst created by the grenade. He rounded the corner, rifle raised, to find the robot almost entirely decommissioned by the cannonade of gunfire and repeated EMP blasts. It clung to life by threads. Elijah nonchalantly placed a killing blast in the machine's chest. The machine's extremities gave up their attempt to level at Elijah, and slumped towards the ground, like a man sleeping in a chair.

Elijah smiled, propping the rifle on his shoulder towards the ceiling, "In the category of events that turned out about as well as they could have, I believe we have an entry."


	4. Chapter 4

Elijah eyed the massive control panel, as if the world itself sat in the palm of his hand. He strode towards it, straight backed, not losing his composure in light of his excitement. A thick layer of dust rendered most of the text illegible. Elijah brushed hastily at the panel, turning his head away as he did so. Particles found his airway regardless, and he hacked and coughed until he had cleaned the buttons satisfactorily. He pondered for a moment how to begin. For days, he had braved the desert, but now he would climb the mountain. He reached out a hand, placing it softly on the keyboard before the monitor. It was almost as if he forgot how type. One rigid peck at the keys sent a small plume of dust into the stale air. Slowly, his many years of typing came back to him, and like an old engine coming back to life, soon he was flying through keystrokes and commands alike. The system's security was barely a hurdle for Elijah, who could not be stopped. Elijah's eyes absorbed the text upon the screen, and no sooner did his excitement peak than did his rage also.

"For God's sake!"  
Veronica's voice rose from behind him, "What is it?"

"Half of this goddamned thing's solar panels are either damaged or dysfunctional, we're gonna be here weeks repairing it."  
"No, we won't."

Elijah couldn't tell if he was hopeful or slightly enraged at Veronica's bluntness, "Why not?"

"Because as soon as you tell the Brotherhood that this thing doesn't work, they're gonna tell you to pack it up and pursue interests elsewhere."  
Enraged it was, "Close minded idiots, the lot of them! I could give them the power of the gods, but the second anything might require a small investment of time, they insist we abandon the whole endeavor! Not this time! What are we, if not raiders? Hmm? What makes us different from them? Power armor? Is that it? We dress different, so we're somehow better than them? No! It is our ability to further a progressive system, even if it takes time!"

Veronica nodded her head the entire time. Normally she did this as if dismissing Elijah's rants, but her attention and posture hinted at sincerity, which scared Elijah even more than dismissiveness.

"Don't listen to me, I'm just angry."  
"You're right! We have to convince them this is a worthy investment! If we don't fix it, someone might, and then what? We come back once it's been weaponized by someone else? They'll have to believe us!"

"There is no room in this world for people like me, Veronica. You'd best not count yourself amongst us."

Elijah supported the majority of his weight on his arms, starting hard downwards at the wall of buttons. Like a riddle weaved in the mouth of the devil himself, it's mysteries eluded him. Elijah was tired. He was aging so much faster than he wished to. He fished around the pockets in his robe until he heard a crumbling. His hand shot for the pocket, and it surfaced with a package of mentats. Elijah himself frowned on chem addiction, but solving a higher level problem usually required higher level thinking. He could already smell the minty tablets as he pushed one through the aluminum foil encasing it. Chucking it in his mouth, he waited. As the waves of time washed over Elijah, so too did the wave of enlightenment he received from the candies. It was all so clear to him now, a mystery how he didn't know before. Elijah began chuckling. He could practically taste the confusion filling the room. Veronica, true to form, was the first to voice hers.

"What's so funny?"

"When I was a boy, running about the halls of the Brotherhood shelter, I used to collect energy ammo people would drop, and I opened my own little shop, where I sold them at discounted prices. So I made a small sign to advertise my deals. An energy cell usually sold for about four caps, so I would undercut the market, as I thought it, and sell one for two caps, or two for five caps. Now there was this other boy named Denton who was a regular customer of mine. Real mean boy too, used to beat the hell out of me in and out of sparring sessions. Now Denton fancied himself a real clever man, too, but I was more clever. You see, half of being clever is knowing when to keep your mouth shut. Denton would make fun of me, he thought, by buying one energy cell, leaving, coming back two minutes later and buying another, saving himself the one cap. Long after I gave up my shop in favor of my books, Denton would make fun of me still.

"_You're a fucking idiot, Elijah, you think you're so smart because you read all day, but you remember that stupid little shop you ran all through your childhood? You never even realized I was tricking you into selling me two cells for cheaper, the whole time. You might learn a million things from those books, but I will always be smarter than you, Elijah, you'd do well to remember that, too."_

"So years pass and I get sent to another shelter, and as I'm passing Denton in the hallway I'm dragging a burlap sack, filled with caps, all the ones he'd spent at my store. I looked him in the eyes.

"_You didn't trick me into giving you cheaper energy cells, I tricked you into buying twice as many._"

"When I left the shelter that day, I knew who I was. I wasn't that same child peddling cheap merchandise I scrounged off the floors. I was no longer the boy who took beatings from a half-wit who hit puberty three years before everyone else. I was the nightmare for people like Denton, people who think they can outsmart me, but I've played this game too many times to lose. I was an illusionist, shaking people's hands with my right, stealing their wallet with my left."

Veronica, although clearly grasped by the story, was not entirely clear on it's relevancy, "So, what does that have to do with all this?"

The door opened and a soldier bolted in.

"Sir, you have to come quick!"  
Elijah was slightly annoyed, "What is it?"

"It's a goddamn army!"


End file.
